For Richer, for Poorer
by Luraia
Summary: Jack had gotten rather used to having Jane at his side while they were both sick. What happens now that they are well again? And can Jack afford to give Jane everything she deserves?


To begin with, Fred usually had more common sense, and what Angus called him over the incident was needlessly cruel and unkind. Fred couldn't really blame him though, in the first place because he knew Angus didn't really mean it (and Angus said as much later, because it wasn't in the man's nature to put down his friends even when he was annoyed with them) and in the second place because Fred really should have known better.

In all honesty, it was a mixture of bad timing and having spent the better part of the evening in the company of a young flower seller with a smile that outdid her wares and that left Fred feeling a bit like he was teetering on the edge of a cliff…high above the world but in danger of a fall, exciting and exhilarating and terrifying all in one go. So his mind (and heart) were clearly elsewhere when he contemplated out loud the difficulties in treating a lady like she deserved to be treated when rent was due in the morning and the next payday not for another week.

Normally, his flat mates would simply commiserate with him, while grinning and teasing about the 'lady' that so had his attention. But then, normally one of their number hadn't just spent the better part of the last week or so ill in bed, and therefore not working.

To be fair, they'd all been a bit ill that week before last; there wasn't a leerie among them who didn't have fits of sneezing or coughing or a runny nose, but most of them had been able to work through it, even with the extra load of those who _hadn't_ been able to work.

Jack hadn't been the worst off, but Angus was fully convinced that was only down to the Banks family dragging him to bed at the onset of his illness; if he had worked like he no doubt would have insisted upon if left to his own devices, he would most definitely have ended in hospital, like poor Jim who _did_ push through his illness, not having a Banks family to talk sense into him, and came down with pneumonia. And if not hospital, then Jack would have finished somewhere worse.

So not a leerie among them, least of all his flat mates, begrudged Jack his 'vacation' with the Banks. But it did mean that, technically, Jack had earned no income during the time he was laid up. Technically, because leeries take care of their own, and they covered his lamps without bringing it up with the city, and so the paycheck allotted to him was the same as ever.

Only Jack, being Jack, wouldn't see that as fair, and both Angus and Fred were certain he would want to give away his paycheck to those who did his work. That's what he always wanted to do in the past when he had to miss a shift or two for whatever reason. On the other hand, just try and get him to _accept_ part of someone else's paycheck when he reversed the favor…Angus had finally had to say he'd never accept payment for doing Jack's share again if Jack refused payment in turn because, as Jack always said, 'fair is fair'.

This time, they had somewhat gotten around Jack by picking up his paycheck for him. Jack had still been too ill come payday (and possibly enjoying Jane's company a bit too much to think about such mundane concepts as money) to even remember it was payday. So he never got to say 'you did the work, you keep it.'

Technically speaking, they did keep it…but neither of them would have dreamed of spending that money as though it were their own. They kept it to pay Jack's share of the rent and grocery bills. And Angus did offer a share to some of the other leeries who had helped out (he did know what Jack would want, and fair _was_ fair). Only one of the leeries accepted, looking guilty as he did, and Angus knew him to be particularly in need of a bit extra, what with his six young children.

When Jack was finally well enough to return to his own bed and once again take up his usual rounds, everything had been strange and different enough that Jack hadn't once even asked about money. Or perhaps he was distracted in missing a certain young lady he had gotten rather used to being just an arm's length away (or closer...certainly closer than society would suggest to be appropriate, but not so close as to betray Michael's trust in the two of them that had led to him allowing them to take his bed).

So Jack hadn't thought about all those days out of work, of other men doing his work for him, and details like how to pay them back, or pay his own bills. And Angus and Fred had carefully not brought up anything likely to put those thoughts into Jack's head.

And then Fred spent a lovely evening with a lovely young woman and came home with a dance in his step and a flower in his buttonhole and nothing in his pockets. And he thoughtlessly had to comment on this last fact out loud. When Jack was there to hear him.

"And where am I to take her next, with the spent due trouble" or, as those who aren't leeries might have said, 'with the rent due tomorrow'. The only reason Angus didn't call Fred all kinds of idiot in that moment was because Jack wouldn't have allowed it. Perhaps Angus should have anyway. It would have been a distraction.

"Oh," said Jack, his mind finally turning away from wondering how such a small bed as the one he owned could feel so huge and empty to wondering about how he was going to afford his share of rent when he'd missed his last paycheck.

"Spent is paid," Angus said quickly, as though that would put Jack off now that he had the idea in his head that he wasn't pulling his fair share.

"But…" said Jack.

"I mean, there's plenty of places as don't cost to take a girl," Fred said quickly, avoiding looking at Angus, as if that would put off his justified wrath. "I say, Jack, what places do you take your girl?"

"Two weeks," said Jack, not distracted in the least, and looking pale enough Fred was actually afraid he'd disturbed Jack so much as to cause a relapse. "Did I even get any pay last payday?"

"A week and a half," Angus corrected, "And course you did. We collected it for you and took your part of the rent from it. The spent is paid, I told you."

"But…but _you_ did the work…you and the others…you paid _my_ rent out of _your_ pay…the others did get their share right?"

"I offered them their share right off," Angus answered promptly, and carefully didn't mention how many accepted, deflecting by adding, "Sean was glad of the extra."

At least that worked, because Jack made no more mention of paying back the other leeries who had helped cover his route. Unfortunately, Jack's mind immediately latched onto someone else who had helped him out while he was sick.

"And I owe Michael for…for the medicine and doctor and…and soup and tea!"

"And I suppose when you sent him to bed he turned around and said 'what do I owe you'?" Angus asked, scoffing now. "And when your dear Jane gives out food and words of encouragement with SPRUCE, she puts out her hat for pay as well?"

"That's different."

"How?" asked Fred, actually a bit puzzled by the way Jack seemed to always turn everything around to mean Jack owed the world while the world owed him nothing.

"Fair is fair," Angus said decisively; "If _we_ were sick in bed you'd never tally up the bill; what makes _you_ so special."

"You _were_ all sick," Jack said, sounding miserable and not like he was going to see reason any time soon. "You needed medicine and soup and tea too and those all cost and I just made more costs and didn't share any of it with you."

"Oh, that's alright," Fred said, and rather unfortunately he was still avoiding looking at Angus, and so failed to see any of the signals the man was sending his way to _stop talking_. "Mr. Banks forgot a bag with medicine and chicken so…"

"What?!" said Jack, looking as pale as ever, before coughing into his sleeve (he was almost completely well again, though slower than usual in doing his rounds, and the cough hadn't quite left him yet, coming on mostly when he overexerted himself or tried to speak too much).

"What he means is," said Angus, still failing to connect with Fred's eyes to give him a _look_, because Fred had enough self-preservation skills to continue to avoid Angus at all costs, "Family doesn't owe each other. And that's what we are. Family."

"But…"

"And if you try to say you owe us all, then, then you're saying we _aren't_ your family. So what is it, Jack? Are we family or are we…are we some kind of business partnership."

"But…"

"Which is it?"

"Can't it be both?"

"Do say we're family, Jack," said Fred. "Otherwise Angus is going to kill me for getting you worked up and I don't want to die, not now I know Sara's in the world. And I need you to tell me where to take her as doesn't cost, and it's brothers as help each other out like that, so we gotta be family. Say we are."

"Well…when you put it like that…"

And then the minor miracle occurred and Jack actually admitted, out loud, that maybe, possibly, they were a family and they didn't need to keep score of who owed who. So in the end Angus still had words to say to Fred but he certainly didn't kill him. And Jack knew dozens of wonderful places to take someone that don't charge for admission, and suggested a picnic as a cheap alternative to dining out. So Fred didn't feel the heat of the scolding like he probably deserved to, what with the armor of a heart in love to deflect the worst of it.

And of course Jack wasn't really put off from feeling guilty over what he owed his friends…his family. Even if he could acknowledge that the guilt was unfounded; that if the situation were reversed he would be doing all in his power to keep the one recovering from paying a cent in return. Feelings rarely have anything to do with logic, and it still felt unfair.

It didn't help that he was still slower than usual to do his own rounds…slow enough that the other leeries whose routes passed his continued to do some of his lights. Nothing near as strenuous as taking on his whole route, of course, but it meant Jack still wasn't doing his fair share.

So Jack never asked if there was any money left over after the rent was taken out. Never mind that it would have been nice to have put by. Because his pockets were as empty as Fred's while his young lady was just as deserving as Fred's flower seller of having nice evenings out. Jane deserved the world. And Jack could give it to her…the parts that were free, those little bits of the world open to anyone who takes the time to find them out and notice they exist. But he couldn't afford at that moment so much as an evening at the movies, or a second rate dinner.

He couldn't afford a ring.

Having had almost an entire week of knowing what it was like to share his life with Jane, to wake up in the morning and find her there, to hold her in his arms and feel her heart beating against his chest, to hear her voice, to listen to her giggle when he amused her…he wanted that to be for forever. And maybe it was too soon, really, to be thinking rings.

Maybe it would always be too soon to be thinking rings…or rather…Jack would never be _enough_. How could he be? If they were to be together, really together, forever kind of together…where would they live? Surely not in his flat, shared with two other men, in a building full of the same sort of noisy (often smelly) overcrowded families in one of the less savory neighborhoods of London. But what was the alternative? Moving into Jane's flat? More fair to Jane in some ways, less fair in others; she'd be taking on a roommate who couldn't possibly afford his fair share of their living arrangement.

It wasn't that Jack was of a mindset that insisted the man had to be the breadwinner of the household while the woman sat at home and raised the children. But he didn't want to be the burden to the household either.

Fred might well one day marry his flower seller, and they would likely find some small, cheap but clean place to make into a home, and maybe she would go on selling flowers while Fred went on lighting up London, and they would make do. They would make do on equal footing with no expectations for more or less than what they could make of their life.

Jane was special, and different and…and she was not a flower seller. She was the daughter of a banker. The sister to a banker. Jack doubted that SPRUCE paid much of an income if it paid at all (he never asked of course) but Jane did have some kind of income, likely inherited from her parents.

Jane was of a class that could afford to offer charity to the poor. Jack was of a class to be accepting that charity.

In fact, probably the only reason he'd never needed to make use of Jane's soup kitchen himself was being a bachelor and sharing a flat with two other men (a flat meant for one, mind), and having a steady, if small, income from lamp lighting. He didn't have savings. What he earned went towards rent and food, and whatever extra he might have gotten just went somehow…to a mate who needed a loan, towards a new tire when his bike found a nail in the worst possible way, towards a round at the pub, towards a new coat when the current one simply couldn't hold out the cold or water any longer…it just went.

Jane deserved everything, and the only things Jack could afford to give were free.

But if Jack were poor in money, he was quite rich in other areas. His glass was not so much half full as half enjoyed and ready for a refill. Where other men might be of the mindset 'she deserves better than me', Jack's mindset was more along the lines of 'she deserves everything', and if she wanted Jack then he was included in that everything and all that was left was to work out how to give her everything.

And Jane did like Jack. She giggled at his jokes and her eyes lit up when she caught sight of him. He'd caught her once in that exact moment, got to see the spark as recognition hit her and her lips turned up, and it was beautiful, even more so to know that glow was caused by him. And besides, she had said as much. Well, what she actually said was "You're a wonder, Jack." That was after he'd gotten Michael to not only stay in bed but fall asleep when the children, Ellen, and Jane combined had barely kept him from running out the door, never mind that he'd been so shaky from his fever he'd almost fallen down the stairs.

"I understand him," Jack had answered. "I'm as bad as he is, in some things."

"Is that how he got you to stay in bed?" Jane had asked.

"He put me next to a beautiful woman; course I stayed."

To that Jane had both giggled and whapped him on the arm. And then she had held his hand and said, quite warmly, "You really are a wonder, Jack." And then, "And I don't believe I was beautiful in the least; sweat drenched and wretched more like it."

"Glowing and beautiful," Jack amended. And then, "And a bit soggy and hoarse. But Beautiful. I don't think you know how to be anything else, even at your worst."

And she tried to give him a look that was meant to say she wasn't buying his words in the least and he kindly didn't draw attention to the blush that now adorned her face. And then Jack couldn't help but say, "I do miss sharing a bed with you. My bed's too big now."

Then it was Jack's turn to blush when Jane just raised an eyebrow at him and it occurred to him how suggestive his words were, but he didn't mean them to be, it was just the truth.

"Well then," said Jane, returning his kindness in not teasing him about his blush either. Or perhaps she did, because her next words were, "If you want to share a bed again, perhaps you should ask."

And Jack was mostly certain she wasn't suggesting they continue with improper sleeping arrangements. He was rather certain, in fact, that she was alluding to future possibilities that weren't improper in the least. And the question she wanted him to ask was almost definitely not 'will you share a bed with me'…even if that would be the end result.

It was too soon to ask…well…maybe. They had known each other for a while. For his entire life, it sometimes seemed to Jack, though they'd only known each other to talk to since that magical spring when Mary Poppins had come, not quite a year before. And they had been sort of dating for most of that time. Neither had given a name to the thing between them, but they both felt quite certain that they wanted it to go on forever.

All Jack knew was that that week of being ill had been a gift, and his tiny narrow bed was far too empty and the entire Banks family deserved the world.

Jack's pockets were empty, but he still had bits of the world to share. He just had to pay his family back first…even if the paying wasn't in money. Because family didn't need paying off, but fair was fair.

If Jack ever were going to ask a question, he wasn't going to be a burden on his family. And he needed to find a way to buy a ring.

Author's Note: There might be a second chapter to this, but I'm leaving it marked as complete just in case I never get around to it since it's complete enough as is.


End file.
